Self-Righteous
By Florence Hartman Townsend
I took out all my little faults
And laundered them so clean,
And hung them in the sun
Where they could all be seen.
My neighbor, too, was laundering;
Her faults hung on the line.
And though I wouldn’t have you tell,
Her faults are worse than mine!
Why did she stare so when she saw
My faults so small and fair?
And give her faults a little pat,
With a sort of prideful air?
(1942)
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Comments are closed.
Cute. I guess the quality/number of one’s faults is in the eye of the beholder?
Well, I certainly think my few, tiny, pastel faults are cuter than your humongous pile of big scarlet ones!
That pile seems to be growing higher each day … 🙂
That’s a true concept. I know may people who loudly proclaim their faults and think that means they’re forgiven. “I know I have anger issues, (but now that I’ve admitted that everyone will put up with me patiently).”
I know. Stating this is irony.
These days, we’d be talking about Facebook rants.
Heh.